Luria was an unusually beautiful elf, old enough to have learned from unwise decisions of adolescence, yet young enough that she was still discovering what kinds of adventure pleased her the most.
While relishing in the visual delights on the fringes of the Milky Way, her ship picked up a distress signal and altered course. Arriving at the source, she found a small ship adrift, with no energy signs other than minimal life-support and one living humanoid.
It doesn’t appear to be capable of time-space shifting… and… there’s only one planet system within it’s range, so that must be where it came from, but there’s no destination within several human lifetimes by conventional propulsion.
A smile expanded across the width of Luria’s face. Well, this boring distraction of a rescue might just have enough of a mystery to unwrap to make it an entertaining side-trip! Fortunately, she had long before picked up a major humanoid language, and now she was close enough to attempt voice contact.
“Hello, this is Luria Celebrindal, daughter of Idril, of the Elvish clan Ancalimë. You seem to be quite far from the trade routes.”
“I’m not a trader.”
Definitely the voice of a male humanoid. Luria waits, but he says nothing else… not his name, not a request for assistance… She looks out her window at a ship that is obviously past its prime.
“Well, Not-a-trader, what are you doing way out here?”
“Waiting for you.”
Luria’s senses sharpen, and she re-checks her instruments for indications of danger from the apparently derelict ship. Not-a-trader’s ship doesn't have any material dense enough to block my sensors, and it doesn't have circuitry for any known weapon types... still no energy other than life-support. She fiddles with her console again. No other ships as far as my sensors can reach.
Satisfied with that, she focuses on her Elvish ability to sense danger or deceit in people nearby... I don't sense any other beings, but something's out-of-place with this human... pilot? I don't sense any malevolence, in fact... he's remarkably calm. Peaceful. That seems rather inappropriate for someone who should have felt doomed, and had now found a one-in-a-billion chance of salvation. She closed her eyes for a moment, then shook her head. Nope, he's not at all excited, or even relieved.
Her mind raced through possible explanations while the voice from the other ship remained silent. Reason suggests he must either be delusional, or he's abandoned hope so thoroughly that he thinks my voice is a delusion. But if that's true, why do I get a strong sense of health and confidence from this human. Hmm...
“So, you set off in a ship to travel through deep space without ensuring it would be able to get you to your destination, it broke, and ever since you’ve just been patiently waiting for your life-support to run out. Against all odds, I show up to save you, and you’re not the least bit excited. Anything you want to add to that story?”
“Hello, Luria Celebrindal, daughter of Idril, of the council clan.”
Wow, he knows the Ancalimë clan leads the council. For a human, he sure is knowledgeable about Elvish culture. Should I be impressed, or suspicious?
“I set off in a ship even though it might break in empty space, because that’s the action I sensed the Creator wanted me to take. And if I correctly discerned His will, the odds of being found were irrelevant. My responsibility was to follow His guidance, not to determine the outcome.”
What?! He can’t be seri… can he be serious? Perhaps he's been out here so long…
“Now let me see if I can guess your story. You’re a Follower of the Creator, but you haven’t been for very long. You’re old enough to have mated, but you haven’t yet, and you often come out here alone, exploring isolated worlds just for fun. Both with friends and family, and when you’re alone, you’re trying to learn what destiny the Creator has for you, but you’re not satisfied with your progress… How’s that?”
Luria is speechless. How could he know all that? Could he be… that’s it! The Creator has crossed my path with an actual prophet… a real one, not a self-appointed pretender, or… or, could it be, that He actually sent this prophet out here in the middle of nowhere just to talk to me?! Her pulse quickened… she had heard of divine events, but she had never experienced anything like the tales she had heard. Still, she couldn’t be sure of anything yet, and she remembered how empty this region of space was if it turned out she was endangered…
“And you’re not the type to keep quiet, so I interpret your silence as an indication that my guess is close enough for you to be wondering how I could know all that. However, if you want to save me, as you previously stated, I think it would be wiser for us to continue this conversation later, as my ship indicates life support will fail within minutes.”
Ah-ha! Now there’s the sense of anxiety I had expected… Luria immediately started working on her console, not quite aware that he had disappointed her with his very natural exhibition of fear, slight though it was. Okay, perhaps I haven’t been a Follower long enough to easily banter with a super-spiritual human, but I’m very good at dealing with the visible world.
“Okay, Not-a-trader, I’ve locked onto your ship’s energy transfer portal, and I’m ready send the juice. Do you need to do anything on your side first?”
“I hope not, because I had an electrical fire and all my controls are dead. The only things still working are some of the automatic ones.”
She shrugged. “Beginning 10-angstrom energy transfer circuit test…” A red indicator lights up on her console. “10-angstrom test failed, beginning phase-sweep test.” Another red light. “We have a problem, Not-a-trader. Transfers failed on every frequency. Unless you can suggest something else, all I can think of is an untested high-energy push.”
“Please try. My ship’s life support just quit, and I’m suiting up. I have about 50,000 breaths in it…” His voice perked up, “Unless my suit’s oxygen scrubbers don’t work!”
Humour? He has only a thin suit between himself and a rapid but painful death, and he’s making light of it? Prophet or not, he’s definitely been alone too long…
“Beginning high-energy transfer…” Two red lights and an alarm go off. “High-energy transfer failed on all frequencies. And your ship’s distress signal has also failed.”
The silence was ominous as she desperately sought alternatives. If his ship has the right kind of cables, could we space-walk to connect them? Are enough of his ship’s circuits undamaged to…
A static-y voice interrupts her thoughts, “Knock-knock.”
She can clearly hear his breathing through his suit-mike, and she waits for him to finish his sentence.
“Knock-knock.”
“You said that already. I don’t understand.”
“I’m verbally knocking on your door. May I come in?”
With a start, Luria looked at his ship again. “Ah, well, that’s more bad news, Not-a-trader. I didn't realize that your ship has no physical view ports, and with your electronics out, you couldn't tell I'm in a sport ship, barely large enough for myself. And my cargo hold is only about half as large as an average-sized adult human.”
“I see. Well, I’m an average-sized human, but I act childish a lot of the time.”
Again with the humor? With circumstances looking this bleak?
Luria caught some movement from the other ship out of the corner of her eye and she turned to see a large object drifting quickly away. “What are you doing?!”
Quite calmly, “Trying to think of options, mostly. If my ship is irreparable out here, and your ship is too small…”
“What did you just jettison from your ship?”
“I didn’t… oh, I wondered what that thump was. I felt it through my seat… I’m strapped in, though I don’t think that’s going to help much. It looks like my main hatch fell off.”
Luria’s jaw dropped, then she suppressed a laugh. Then she couldn’t suppress it any more. “Your main hatch just fell off? Could your ship possibly be any less space-worthy?”
Not-a-trader laughed with her. “Yeah, I admit that sounds pretty bad.” He began to unstrap. “I figured the fire must have caused an atmospheric leak since life support was failing so fast. I’m guessing the hatch blew automatically once a pressure threshold was crossed.” He hand-walked the short distance to the hatchway and stuck his head out. “I’ve never space-walked before, and I don’t think I’d have ever chosen to, but… this is really cool!”
Luria frowned, “I’ll take your word for it. I like something more substantial than a suit between myself and the void of space.” She watched and listened to his breathing as he maneuvered to the outside surface of his ship and turned on his boots’ adhesion. He craned his neck, looking at all the stars he had been blind to from inside, then turned to Luria, smiled, and waved.
Perfectly happy. No trace of fear in him now. Is that how all humans face death? No, definitely not. All Followers, perhaps? Mmm, no, I don’t think so. I’m a Follower now, and I think don't think I'd be half as stoic as him.
He was peacefully star-gazing again when Luria spoke. “When I first got your distress signal I started forwarding it, and I’ve been transmitting my own since that quit. Maybe a larger ship will beat the odds and find us.”
No response from Not-a-trader, whose arms were now free-floating. Luria still sensed a robustly healthy sole, but seeing his arms free-floating worried her anyway.
“Hey, you still with me?”
“Yep. Just relaxing and enjoying the awesome view.”
She shook her head in amazement. “Well, whenever you get ready, unlock your boots and push yourself my way. If you push off-target, I can easily put my ship in your trajectory. Once you attach to my hull, we can start working on a way for my ship to replenish your air and water supplies, after we fetch your hatch back. That will extend your survival time to the limits of your in-suit food supply.”
“Nope, that won’t work.”
She worked on her console. “I know I can’t time-space shift with you on the hull, but I’ve calculated the time it would take to get to the closest planet at the maximum thrust that would allow you to stay attached, and if we can figure out a way to get more food into your suit, we...”
He had turned to look full at her for the first time, and his face was young and gorgeous. Wow. She laughed to herself. Either he's not a prophet, or all prophets aren't old men.
He smiled at her, and she could feel the warmth. She flushed. You're human. I’m Elvish. It’s not supposed to work this way. Humans are supposed to be vulnerable to the attractiveness of Elves, but not the other way around. Is he… could the Creator intend him to to be part of my Destiny? I found him alone among the stars against all sane odds… oh, Creator, do you intend…
“My suit’s leaking.”
Luria couldn’t believe her ears.
“That’s why it won’t work.” Not-a-trader’s smile turned into a bashful grin, and he shrugged. “I don’t think we have much time.”
Now he’s sad. Not afraid, not angry, but sad? Because… something about me. He’s worried about me?!
She couldn’t speak, she just stared at him and wondered.
He’s about to die, and he’s sad because he worried about me.
And I can’t do anything except talk to him while his air runs out.
He sighs. “My name is Fingolfin. In Elvish, that is… my name is Fingolfin.”
Tears began to stream down her face. Fingolfin. And what a unique soul in this Universe... Creator, would you bring me here just to have him die just out of my reach? That cannot be! Such a man must not…
Luria’s tears stopped, and she wiped her face with the backs of her gloves. She looked at him, and closed her eyes while she thought through a plan. This must be why the Creator brought me here. This is my moment to serve. My Destiny. Looking up, she began to work on her instrument panel, and after a few minutes, she nodded. If I’m fast enough, this should work.Then she looked up into space. Creator, I don’t know you as well as I want to, but I ask you now, help me save this man. Help me make my life count for something more important than myself.
Fingolfin is looking toward her as she turns to face him again. “Okay, Fingolfin, I have a plan. Push yourself over here.”
“I can tell you have a plan. And I don’t like it.”
“You don’t know what it is.” She was bluffing, sort of, hoping that he either wasn’t a prophet, or wasn’t a good enough prophet to know her thoughts, if prophets could do that.
“No… I’m not quite sure what it is, but I’m sure I don’t like it.”
“Either you push yourself over here, or I push my ship over there, and if I accidentally hit my ship against yours… You don’t want me to share your fate, do you?”
Oh, no, was that ever the wrong phrase. This human is much too perceptive for me to make such slips of the tongue.
Will he do it? Did I foul it up? Maybe I start edging my ship toward…
Fingolfin started walking to the side of his ship facing hers. Once he was in the best position to push off, he just stared at Luria through her window until she thought he might change his mind, but he finally switched off his boots and lightly pushed, drifting gently toward her.
Luria used her micro-jets to move her ship ever so slightly so that he floated into it dead-center, and he was able to reactivate his boots on her hull. He walked the few steps to her window and peered down.
There’s that smile again, but this time it’s a worried smile. And… his worry is for my sake… but if he suspects my plan, why would he be cooperating? Was this his idea to begin with? Could he be that selfish, and yet able to deceive my senses?
“What’s next, my would-be Elvish savior?”
Would-be? Is he referring to the possibility that my attempt to save him might fail, or is he counting on it going awry?
Luria’s emotions were now beginning to run wild, whipping back and forth between one fear and doubt, then another. Oh, Creator, help me! Was this my idea or yours? Or his? Did he trick me into coming out here kill me and steal my ship? Did you bring me out here to take my life to save his? I’m afraid! If you want me to die, I want to be ready, but I’m not! She began crying again, sobbing. That Man on my roof is watching me cry. Yet, he doesn’t say anything! He’s afraid I won’t follow through with my plan, and I… I…
Oh, Creator, I’m a terrible Follower. I have no idea how to follow you. Until you sent me here, this trip has been the most pleasant adventure I’ve ever experienced, and now I don’t know what to do. And I’m so afraid… I’m afraid of not doing the right thing, of not wanting to follow Your will if you want me to die… please… please, help me. Let me know Your plan… Then Luria’s thoughts fell silent. The sense of panic was gone. And from inside her own soul, she heard an unmistakable Voice.
“Daughter of Annárë, open your door.”
A powerful sense of peace came over Luria as the tears slowed, but did not stop. Oh, Creator, who but You could know the name I call You in my quiet times? If I be led astray while doing my best to follow you, then I shall be led astray. You, most Pure One, are able to preserve me if you wish. I am yours, and yours alone.
She opened her eyes and began to don her helmet and seal her suit. A thought fluttered just beyond her consciousness, then came to mind: My responsibility is to follow Your guidance, not to determine the outcome.”
Ready to go, she looked up. To her surprise, Fingolfin was not looking at her, but at the stars. She paused and took a deep breath. Okay, My Annárë, this man must be worth it to you, so it doesn’t matter to me if he’s good or bad.
Luria pushed a short series of buttons on her console, and pumps began sucking the air out of her compartment. Once complete, the pressure seal was released, and her hatch swung into the blackness of space. She took another deep breath and unbuckled from her seat, then hand-walked up until she was beside Fingolfin.
She held onto the hatch, rather than activating her boots, and nodded toward the opening.
“My plan is simple enough, we’ll both try to squeeze in. You'll have to get in first.”
Fingolfin didn’t move. He looked down at the cockpit designed for a 1.8 meter tall Elf.
“You’re very special, oh Princess of Ancalimë.”
Without alarm, she considered his reference. I never told him I was a Princess. He must have known all along. So this was a plot. He knows we’re both too big to fit in there, and he’s planning to shove me away. She looked away. I don’t know what Your plan is, Creator, but I sure don’t like making this easy for him. And after I die, please tell me how he managed all this and why you want to help him.
She looked back toward Fingolfin, and he finally began to ease down into the compartment as a tear rolled down his cheek.
Well, at least he has some small regret about my death.
As Fingolfin was half-way down, Luria steeled her nerves. This is where he’ll try to push me away. At least I can stick to my original plan and push myself away from the ship instead of him pushing me.
He was having trouble getting his legs past the controls, as another thought flashed through Luria’s mind. His ship! Maybe it’s not as bad as he thought! If I can jump close enough to get my boots on it or grab something, maybe I can fix it enough to get myself back to the planet he came from! I’ve got to do it now – if he pushes me, I won’t have a chance of hitting his ship.
Luria looked at the other ship and pulled on the hatch to compress her legs to spring. With fear rising within her again, she made her best judgment as to aim, but in her excitement, she pushed off as hard as she could, and… screamed, as her feet left her ship’s hull and she realized she had pushed much too hard.
Panic took control as her eyes closed involuntarily and she continued to scream and cry, and to either wait a few seconds to hit the ship too hard or to experience the slowly increasing pain of knowing she had missed it. Eyes shut, and against all hope, she extended her arms, and cried, and… seconds ticked away. Her brain railed at death, and told her it had been too long… she had missed the ship, and she would die, alone, in empty space. Betrayed by someone the Creator cared more about than her.
She continued to cry, no longer in panic, but in painful resignation to death.
“Why?! Oh, Creator, why? Why must I die like this?! Why must I die now?!? Could you not have used me for more than this? Do you love humans more than Elves? Do you not care for me?!”
Through her tears, she opened her eyes and saw her beloved stars.
My stars. The stars you have allowed me to see and take pleasure in, oh, my Creator, my… “What?!”
Filling the sky among her stars in front of her was Fingolfin’s ship. Luria’s brain struggled to make sense of it.
“God’s love is limitless.”
Luria felt pins-and-needles all over as she hardly dared to breath. Where… who…
Slowly, Luria tilted her head down. And saw her ship, with a human half-in, half-out of its cockpit, both arms stretched over his head, holding tightly to the sole of one of her boots.
“He loves all his creatures. And if He has a place in His Heart for special individuals in whom He delights, there is certainly no one more in His Heart than you, my faithful and lovely friend.”
Fingolfin pulled her gently toward himself and the cockpit. “You caught me off guard, Princess. I didn’t expect you to do that until after you tried to shut the hatch. Good thing I had trouble getting in.”
